


Unreal

by Faylette



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Body Image, Body Worship, Breastfeeding, Cock Warming, Cooking, Cravings, Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic Fluff, Drunk Victor Nikiforov, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Smut, Frottage, Gentle Sex, I have no explanation for mpreg happening in this world, Impregnation, Kitchen Sex, Knock Yuuri Up Week 2017, Lactation Kink, M/M, Male Lactation, Mpreg, Non-Explicit Childbirth, Non-Penetrative Sex, Oral Sex, Parenthood, Pregnancy Kink, Proud Papa Victor, Quickies, Riding, Rimming, Self-Esteem, Self-Lubrication, Sleepy Sex, Spooning, implied otayuri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-12
Updated: 2018-01-06
Packaged: 2019-02-13 20:10:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12991614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Faylette/pseuds/Faylette
Summary: His voice wavers as the sentence comes to a close. Even with all the talking and planning and deciding and doing, still saying it makes his heart flutter. A baby with Victor. How unreal.My humble contribution to Knock Yuuri Up Week 2017 with a short (500-1000~ word) chapter to be posted each day. Will probably also include SFW chapters.





	1. Monday: Impregnation

**Author's Note:**

> This seemed like a good way to force myself to write and post something (short as it may be) multiple days in a row, so... let's just go with it!
> 
> Kudos and comments are welcomed and dearly treasured. <3

_"Victor_ ,” Yuuri gasps, one hand poorly clasped over his mouth, the other with a fistful of silvery hair.

Victor’s hands are at work too — one reached out to caress Yuuri’s chest, the other around Yuuri’s cock, stroking up in down in tandem with his very warm, very wet mouth.

“V-Victor, we should really — ah!” he moans, the suddenness of Victor taking it him down his throat making the noise shameless, loud. Victor keeps him there, lets all those nerves at the head ignite under that incomparable constriction.

Victor comes up for air, clearly pleased with himself for the pleasure so sharply carved into Yuuri’s choked voice and red face. His grip goes a bit slack, but never stills, as he looks up into that face.

“Now, what is it we should do, my Yuuri?”

Yuuri rolls his lips inward, tries to come up with what to say, ends up clumsily mumbling, “Get pregnant…”

“You don’t like it when I pleasure you like this first?” Victor pouts, eyeing Yuuri’s erection with no subtlety, and licking his lips with the same amount.

“That’s not it…” Yuuri swallows, searching for the right words. “It’s just… you don’t have to do that if we’re trying for a baby…”

His voice wavers as the sentence comes to a close. Even with all the talking and planning and deciding and _doing_ , still saying it makes his heart flutter. A baby with Victor. How unreal.

“This body will carry our child,” Victor says dreamily, moving his hand to let his fingers run beneath Yuuri’s navel, with a palpable reverence. “It deserves to have wonderful things done to it, don’t you think?”

Yuuri can’t think, and he definitely can’t speak — not when Victor says things like this, looks at him with those blue eyes so heavy with desire, so clear to him even with his glasses tossed aside on the bedside table.

“Hm.” Victor smiles, pressing a kiss to the saliva-drenched crown of Yuuri’s cock, making the whole of it twitch with such a gentle touch, a kiss that would be innocent were it not for where it was directed.

“But if you’ve truly had your fill of the overture,” Victor begins, his voice slippery smooth, as he holds himself up on all fours and crawls on top of Yuuri, “how rude it would be of me to delay the show.”

And yet still Victor delays it, caressing Yuuri’s cheek, kissing his slightly sweaty brow, dragging the underside of his dick against Yuuri’s instead of _putting it inside of him_ . God, he wants Victor inside him — his cock, his seed, his child, everything him, him, _him._ It’s maddening.

“Victor,” says Yuuri, rigid, as if ready to chide him.

He doesn’t stop laying kisses down Yuuri’s temple, all the way down to his neck, as he answers, “Yes, Yuuri?”

No more of that. He takes the hand he used to muffle his moans to hold Victor by the jaw, locking them eye-to-eye, so close he can smell that one glass of wine on his lover’s breath, the one he had right before pulling Yuuri into bed and _torturing_ him like this.

“I want your baby,” Yuuri tells him, his voice as solid as it is hungry. “So knock me _up._ ”

“Ah, there’s that bold Yuuri I love.” Victor lets his lips linger back on Yuuri’s hairline, and Yuuri is literally one second away from flipping Victor onto his back and getting the job done himself when Victor purrs into his ear, “I would _love_ to knock you up.”

And, so quickly, Yuuri has his hips angled up and his wet, ready hole stuffed full of Victor’s cock. Yuuri cries out in relief, in pleasure, in hunger for more, all at once.

And when Victor comes in him, holding Yuuri to tight against himself, Yuuri is certain this is the time it will take. He just knows it.

He starts to cry, too happy to do anything else.


	2. Tuesday: Cravings/Libido

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't decide which prompt to do, so I picked both!

“Yuuri, it's almost ready!” Victor calls out, giving the simmering pot of shchi another good stir. He brings the spoon up to his mouth, blows gently, and tastes it. A little shiver radiates away from his mouth, getting all the way down to his shoulders before fizzling out. By using sauerkraut instead of fresh cabbage, as he would prefer, it’s about as sour as Victor can stand. He smiles to himself, triumphant, because that means Yuuri will love it.

Day in and day out, practically from the moment they gleefully confirmed Yuuri’s pregnancy, all Yuuri has wanted is sour food: kimchi, Greek yogurt, sour candies, vinegary potato chips — Victor has even walked in on him eating lemon wedges, and more than once.

Victor has never has much experience cooking, living for years on a strict, nutritionally comprehensive prepared meal plan, which he would regularly cheat on in restaurants in St. Petersburg and wherever his competitions took him. But now that Yuuri’s eating for two, Victor has thrown himself wholeheartedly into culinary endeavours. It’s not just for the practical benefits of making sure Yuuri gets the right number of calories, vitamins, and minerals, but also for something more personal, more emotional, perhaps. Preparing food for Yuuri has let Victor feel more involved in a process that, save for the starting of it, he’s felt more and more removed from. The fatigue and nausea and nagging ache in his lower back are all part of an experience that is wholly Yuuri’s — so is making a whole new human being inside of him. Yuuri nourishes their growing baby, so Victor nourishes his growing Yuuri.

Besides, it’s just satisfying to see his lover content after having a craving fulfilled.

Speaking of which…

“Yuuri!” Victor gushes, as his beautiful, glowing Yuuri walks up to his side. “Would you like to sneak a taste?” He winks and puts his finger up to his lips. He won’t tell anyone, not that there’s anyone to tell.

“Hey, Victor?” He’s rubbing his forearm, tapping his slippered foot slowly but steadily on the hardwood floor. But even his fidgeting makes it hard for Victor to keep his eyes away from Yuuri’s belly, just starting to poke out beyond the waistband of his old jeans. Victor suspects it won’t be long before he won’t be able to wear them anymore.

“What is it?” he asks, voice helplessly bubbly in the bliss of this domestic scene.

“Can we do it again?”

Should Victor agree, this will be the fourth time today alone. The only thing can rival Yuuri’s cravings for sour are his cravings for sex.

“Dinner’s almost ready, Yuuri,” Victor reminds him.

“It can be quick,” Yuuri is quick to reply.

Victor looks at the timer, wonders how much pleasure he can bring Yuuri in a mere five minutes. Enough to calm the throbbing heat between Yuuri’s thighs, he imagines — enough to tame it for awhile, at least.

“Okay,” Victor relents, never having meant to deny Yuuri in the first place, and puts the spoon down on the stove. “Turn around.”

Yuuri’s eyes go wide. “You want to do it here?”

“The clock’s ticking, honey.”

In what feels like an instant, Yuuri has his hands on the island counter, his back to Victor. Victor doesn’t squander a single second; he immediately sinks to his knees, yanks Yuuri’s jeans and briefs past his thighs, spreads his cheeks, and slams his face into his ass. He ravages Yuuri’s hole with his mouth, spreading slick and slobber all over his rim and taint. Spurred by the delicious sounds Yuuri’s making, Victor reaches down, slipping his cock out from his undone fly, using his hand to encourage the erection he’s already halfway to having, enthusiastically eating Yuuri out all the while.

When Victor’s hard enough, he has to convince himself to pull away, sternly reminding himself that time is very much of the essence. He springs to his feet, grabs Yuuri by the hips, and thrusts into him. Yuuri accepts him easily, his daily insatiability keeping him loose and primed to take Victor’s cock. Even so, he still makes that wonderful, shuddery gasp as Victor bottoms out in him, every time, without fail. And every time, without fail, it drives Victor crazy.

Victor bucks his hips like mad, skin slapping loud against skin. He doesn’t draw anything out — when he feels himself getting close, he doesn’t resist it in the least. Wrapping around Yuuri’s slippery cock with his fingers, he moves to pry both of their orgasms out of them.

Yuuri spills himself in Victor’s palm. Victor spills himself in Yuuri’s body. The timer goes off. They pant and catch their breath. Victor’s sticky fingers wander up to Yuuri’s warm belly, the delight of feeling the curve there intensified in their afterglow.

“Feel better now?” asks Victor.

“Mm-hmm.”

“Good.” Victor leans forward and kisses his lover’s nape. Both oversensitive, they both shudder a bit at how his softening cock rubs against Yuuri’s insides in the motion.

“Now, let’s go wash up before dinner, okay?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and I hope to see you again tomorrow! Comments make my day. <3


	3. Wednesday: Maternity Clothes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is SFW! I know, I'm surprised too.

“Congratulations!” says the bubbly clerk, after welcoming the two into the shop. “How far along are you?”

“About sixteen weeks,” Yuuri answers, hand unconsciously moving to rest on his already, in his opinion,  _ massive _ baby bump.

“Aw, your little one’s still a ways away, then!” Yuuri thinks her voice is the closest approximation to what cotton candy would sound like if it could talk. It distracts him from how annoyed he's getting. “Will you need any padding for the fitting room?”

Yuuri squints. “Any what?”

Before he can get an explanation, Victor chimes in with an enthusiastic, “We’ll take all of them!”

Once Yuuri’s in front of the fitting room, he gets his answer, in the form of a set of foam-packed, disembodied baby bumps with velcro straps to attach together behind it.

“It’s so you can know how these clothes fit when you get bigger,” says Victor, holding the one with a “6” on it, the apparent number of months its foam baby has been growing inside it.

Locked in a room with much more space than he needs, with two whole trimesters of bumps and a few pairs of pants Victor helped him pick out, he breathes in deeply, exhales slowly, and drops his sweatpants down. He notices for the third time today that he can no longer see his underwear when he looks down, but soldiers on, grabbing and stepping into a pair of jeans with a panel of stretchy fabric coming out of its deceptive denim waistband. Out of habit, he goes to zip and button them up, feeling an odd sense of disappointment when he realizes the zipper and buttons are purely decorative, to trick some innocent bystander into thinking Yuuri could still fit into a normal pair of jeans. He pulls the true, elastic waistband up over his belly, letting it conform to the shape it’s morphed into, looks at himself in the mirror, takes his eyes away from how much his face is rounding out, and forces his attention downward.

Involuntarily, his throat rumbles out a displeased noise. He’s only a couple weeks out of his first trimester and he’s so  _ big. _ How could be possibly get any bigger than this?

He knows he’s playing with fire, knows he’s going to get burnt, but he can’t stop himself — he grabs the waistband with both hands, then pulls it forward as far as it will stretch.

_ Oh god. _

He sits down on the provided bench, huddles over, head in his hands, and tries to calm down.

“Yuuri!” Victor taps against the door. “How’s it going? Can I see yet?”

“Um, j-just hold on,” Yuuri manages, but he can’t disguise how much it sounds like he’s about to vomit — and he very well might.

A moment of silence.

“Are you okay?” Victor asks, his voice soft.

Against every fibre in his being, Yuuri tells him the truth. “No.”

“Can I come in?”

He leans forward to undo the lock before hunching back over. Victor enters, locking them in together.

“I look gross.” And he feels gross enough that right now he can see the merits of crawling into a hole and staying there until this is all over with. “And it’s just gonna get worse.”

“Yuuri…” He cups Yuuri’s head in his hands, leaning down to press his brow into his black hair. “You look beautiful.”

Yuuri stays quiet, trying to keep his tears quiet.

“I mean it,” says Victor. “You're radiant.”

“I know you're just being nice,” Yuuri hiccups, rubbing the corners of his eyes. “You can’t be attracted to… this.”

Victor huffs through his nose.

Then, in a move fueled by love and defiance, and with so much energy Yuuri can't help but to watch, Victor straightens up, swipes one of the foam bellies within reach, and shoves it under his shirt like a child playing make-believe with a pillow.

“What are you doing?” Yuuri asks, more confused than distressed for the moment.

“How do I look?” Victor asks instead of answering. “Am I still attractive to you? Do you feel any different about me, just because I'm bigger?” Yuuri just stares at him, making him let out an exasperated, “Well, Yuuri?”

“Your baby’s falling out.”

Victor looks down, gasping when his eyes confirm it. Instead of removing it, he shoves it back up his shirt, keeping a hand at the bottom of the bump to keep it in place. The whole scene is so bizarre and comical that, even with his throat tight and his eyes moist, Yuuri starts laughing.

“Hey…” Victor pouts.

“Sorry, I'm sorry,” Yuuri says between fits of laughter.

Victor sighs. “Well, at least I get to see you smile. Seriously, though.” He puts a reassuring hand on Yuuri’s shoulder. Yuuri’s trying not to keep laughing. “You  _ are _ beautiful. These changes must be hard for you, but they're happening because you're  _ making a baby. _ ” He emphasizes the words like it's a magical feat, something nobody's ever done before. “Your body is amazing, Yuuri, as amazing as you.” He smiles, a little pain laced into his lips. “You'll believe me, won't you?”

Yuuri sniffs. “I'll try.”

“Good,” says Victor, that pain in his expression dissipating. “I'll be sure to remind you if you ever forget. I've heard pregnancy can make you forgetful.”

Yuuri jumps to his feet and throws himself at Victor in a hug, one partly thwarted by the clash of their swollen middles, rather they be artificial or very, very real. This time, it's Victor’s turn to laugh. Yuuri is fast to join him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! And don't forget to leave a comment if you enjoyed. :)


	4. Thursday: Free Day

“Yurio! Otabek!” Victor exclaims as he yanks the front door open, bounding into the hallway to throw his arms around Yuri, with zero regard for the plastic container Yuri’s holding. “We’re so happy you could make it!”

“Pirozhki, watch the pirozhki!” Yuri barks.

Victor turns his attention to Otabek, pulling him into a hug. Otabek makes no protest, but also stays stone-still until Victor steps back. “And you! Coming all the way from Kazakhstan! Welcome to the future home of my daughter!”

“Actually, I was here visiting Yuri after—“

“Yuuri, they’re here!” Victor announces, twisting away to direct his loud voice inside.

Yuri cringes like he just heard a terrible joke. “Are you already drunk?”

“Just a little! I couldn’t help myself from starting the celebration early,” Victor admits, although he doesn’t have a sliver of guilt to show for it. “My Yuuri’s at 27 weeks today!”

“You do this every week, don’t you?” says Yuri, in a dry tone that shows he already knows the answer and really can’t be surprised by it.

Their guests enter, following their drunk host to the dining room. As they arrive, Yuuri emerges from the kitchen, carrying a large platter of baked salmon. Victor zips right over to him.

“Yuuri, let me get that for you!” Victor insists, offering his empty hands.

“It’s fine,” says Yuuri, “I’ve got it.”

“You shouldn’t be carrying something so heavy!”

“It’s not that heavy. You worry too much about me,” Yuuri chides, but it’s a warm kind of scolding.

“I can’t help it.” Victor pouts. “Not with our little baby girl in there. You shouldn’t push yourself too—”

“You’re both a foot away from the table,” Yuri points out. “Just  _ put it down. _ ”

That dealt with, Yuuri walks over to his guests to personally greet them. Otabek offers a firm handshake and a “congratulations,” both welcomed, if a bit too formal for the occasion.

“Yurio!” Yuuri looks up with awe. “You’ve gotten taller since I last saw you.”

“And you’ve gotten fatter.” Yuri thrusts his tupperware container forward, holding it in front of Yuuri. “I made katsudon pirozhki.”

“Thank you, Yurio,” he says cheerfully, going to take them. Victor swoops in to do so instead, chivalrously saving Yuuri from the perils of lifting a whole dozen pirozhki. Yuuri just sighs, watching his husband with a dreamy look in his eyes.

Yuri groans and takes a seat, pulling out the chair next to him for Otabek.

Despite the well-decorated table and the polished silverware at their disposal, the dinner is a completely casual affair, where the order of dishes are picked freely, etiquette is largely ignored, and alcohol flows freely. At least for Victor. Yuri and Otabek have only had a couple sips of the wine Victor poured for them by the time Victor starts pouring his third glass — since the start of the dinner, at least.

“Haven’t you had enough, old man?” Yuri asks, eyes narrowed, as he plops another serving of potato salad on his plate.

“Yuuri can’t have any alcohol, so I need to drink for him!” Victor helpfully explains, throwing his arm around Yuuri’s shoulder and holding him close. It doesn’t even interrupt Yuuri from carving his piece of salmon.

Yuri gapes. “That makes no sense!”

“The soup is delicious,” Otabek comments, kindly stopping this from going any further. “How did you get this flavour?” he asks Yuuri.

“Me?” Yuuri pops up, then lets out a small, bashful laugh. “I’m flattered, but Victor made the soup. He made just about everything, actually.”

“Bullshit,” Yuri hisses, shooting a suspicious glare at Victor. “You started a fire at the rink making coffee.”

“That’s  _ long _ in the past, Yurio.” Victor brushes him off with a wave of the hand, beaming as he moves that hand to fondly rub Yuuri’s belly. “I need to spoil my princess with yummy things!” He whips his head back in the other two’s direction. “Want to see her?”

Before  _ any _ response can be given, he already has his arm stretched across the table, the ultrasound photo in his hand.

“Where did you pull that out from!?” a baffled Yuri asks as Otabek takes the photo.

“That’s from 20 weeks, when she was the size of a tomato!” says Victor, unaffected by Yurio’s confusion. “But now she’s as big as an eggplant! I’m so proud of her,” he gushes, “and of my Yuuri, of course.”

“Cute,” Otabek says simply.

Yuri looks over and squints. “What  _ is _ it?”

Otabek points at the picture, angling it towards Yuri. “That’s her head there, and her body. It’s like she’s on her side, curled up. Can you see it now?”

Yuri stares harder, looking more frustrated as the seconds pass by. “How can you even tell what you’re looking at?”

“Big family, remember? Lots of nephews and nieces — I’ve seen plenty of these.”

Yuri grabs the photo out from Otabek’s fingers. He starts holding it at different distances, tilting it from side to side, trying to get the blurry grey blob to transform into something other than a blurry grey blob.

“And she has hair now,” Victor continues, having not stopped talking about their baby since handing over the ultrasound print. “Plus she has eyelashes and can blink now, and sometimes she gets hiccups — you can feel those, right, honey? — Oh! And she can hear me now!” He slumps over and presses his head against the baby bump. “Isn’t that right my sweet little eggplant? I love yooou.”

Yuuri acknowledges Victor with a quiet chuckle and nonchalantly takes a sip from his wine glass full of orange juice. He’s more than used to Victor fawning over him like this, drunk or not.

Victor suddenly gasps. “She’s kicking! See, she can hear me! And she loves me back, aww.”

Yuri snorts. “Maybe she’s just trying to kick you in the face.”

“She would  _ never _ ,” Victor slurs, scandalized even by the mere suggestion.

“Oof, she’s really going at it,” says Yuuri, patting the part of his belly not blocked off my Victor’s nuzzling head.

“Could I feel?” Otabek asks.

“Sure,” says Yuuri. “I don’t mind.”

Otabek leaves his chair and, after Victor reluctantly moves away, places his hand as Yuuri directs.

“Did you feel that?” says Yuuri, just a couple seconds after Otabek makes contact.

Otabek nods. “Yeah. That’s incredible.”

Yuri, elbows on the table and eyes glued on Otabek, says, “Shouldn’t it be no big deal by now? With your big family?”

“Maybe. But it doesn’t really stop being incredible.” Hand still in place, he looks over at Yuri, giving him one of those rare smiles. Yuri gives him a small one back, turning flushed, before realizing what he’s doing and picking up his glass of wine to hide behind.

Victor’s eyes shift back and forth between his guests, a devious smirk going across his face as the cogs in his sloshed brain start moving.

“Hey, you two,” he says, his tone light and wavy. “Our little girl could use a little friend to play with.  _ Maaaybe  _ you could make one?”

Yuri chokes on his wine. The rest of the night goes as expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Free day was my excuse to write drunk Victor and shoehorn otayuri into the week and I have no regrets.
> 
> See you again tomorrow! I hope you'll let me know if you enjoyed reading. <3


	5. Friday: Body Worship

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I accidentally took the prompt a tad too literally. Let's just roll with it. Okay? Okay.
> 
> Thanks for the kudos and comments. <3 (I always look forward to more)
> 
> NSFW chapter

Yuuri Katsuki is gorgeous.

He’s gorgeous when he’s on the ice, letting himself become one with the music.

He’s gorgeous when he wakes up in the morning, eyes squinty and hair disheveled.

He’s gorgeous when he’s carrying their child, his body so full and soft and alive.

And when he has that body on top of Victor, his face so flushed, his skin so warm, he is breathtaking.

“Does that feel good?” Victor says breathily, his back on their bed, his hands on Yuuri’s slowly rolling hips.

“Mm-hmm,” Yuuri hums, letting out a little gasp as he gets their cocks to rub together just the way he wants them to. Victor bites his lip as he watches him, so aroused he feels ready to burst.

His husband is heavily pregnant, only a few weeks short of his due date, and so utterly beautiful. Victor loves every inch of his changed body — his heavy round belly, the brown line painted down its middle, his cute popped-out navel, his darkened nipples on his now plumper chest. As much as he looks forward to meeting their baby, and as selfish as it is to think, Victor wishes Yuuri could stay like this forever.

He feels drugged on the sight of him, looking this way and moaning in such pleasure.

“You're my religion, Yuuri,” he says, unable to keep these words inside, needing them to fly free.

“You say,” he huffs, laughing a bit, “silly things during sex.”

“I mean it.” His eyes run all over Yuuri, and it only redoubles what he said. “Your body is my church,” he continues in his bliss. “My sacred icon. My holy relic.” His hands run up Yuuri’s side, carefully feeling his tender chest. “It answers my prayers.” He caresses his middle, holding it between his hands with an incalculable adoration. “It makes life itself.”

Yuuri breathes, the sound gradually getting higher, needier, as he grinds faster against his lover singing his ecstatic praises.

“Love of my life.” Victor moves with the motion. “Father of my child.” More rubbing, more rutting. Simple, primal, wonderful. “My every pleasure.” A throaty groan. “My god…”

“I’m close,” Yuuri says in a gasp, arching himself back. “Victor—”

Victor comprehends and complies without delay, taking their cocks together into his fist, turning his wrist as he strokes them both base to head in tandem and, all the while, his other hand does not leave the curve of Yuuri’s full, fertile belly. It’s not long before Yuuri comes on Victor’s body, moaning out pure music as his cock pulses in Victor’s still-moving hand, bringing himself to orgasm soon after, leaving a warm, sticky pool of their intermixed seed in the divot of Victor’s firm chest.

Their breath slows to an even, slower pace but, still panting, Yuuri smiles and says, “I thought you were Orthodox.”

Victor chuckles, moving his hair away from his eyes, letting nothing blemish the perfect vision of his perfect lover.

“You should know better than that, Yuuri,” he says, raising himself to press a kiss, reverent and lingering, just beside Yuuri’s navel. “After all, you’re the one who converted me.”


	6. Sunday: Labour-Inducing Sex

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi again! I switched the last two prompts around because it made more sense to me, for anyone who cares. Anyway, I was so happy to see the positive reactions to yesterday's chapter, and I hope you're all up for some more NSFW intimacy.
> 
> Enjoy!

“You still awake, Yuuri?” he hears Victor mumble from behind him, his voice heavy with sleep.

And, Yuuri is, of course, still awake. His restless limbs, near-constant fidgeting, and flipping over — especially with how much effort that takes with his full term belly to contend with — must’ve woken Victor up. Again.

“Ah, sorry,” Yuuri whispers sheepishly. “Go back to sleep, Vitya.”

In the stillness that follows, with the rain ticking at the window and the oscillating fan the only sounds that can be heard in their near-lightless bedroom, Yuuri hopes Victor did just that. But he soon feels his husband’s side of the mattress shifting, Victor probably propping himself up on his elbow, and Yuuri just feels more guilty for interrupting his sleep.

“Do you want some chamomile tea?” Victor asks with a yawn. “Or I could draw you a warm bath.”

“N-No, it’s all right.”

“Yuuri…” Victor sighs, putting his hand on Yuuri’s shoulder, rubbing up and down his bare arm. “You really need to get some sleep, love.”

Yuuri does, he knows — and he knows could probably use a three-day hibernation to make up for all the sleep he  _ hasn’t  _ been getting for the past week or so, despite the perpetual exhaustion he’s been simultaneously saddled with.

“It’s okay,” he reassures Victor. “I’ll probably fall asleep soon anyway.”

It’s a statement that does nothing to reassure either of them.

“I know you’re very anxious,” says Victor, a little more awake, but still with the softness of drowsiness in his words. “I am too. It’s normal, isn’t it?”

Probably. Maybe. Should he be? What’s Yuuri have to be so anxious about, really? He’s young and healthy, unlikely to face any complications, their baby’s perfectly positioned for delivery, and right now, she’s in the sweet spot between preterm and late term, having reaped all the benefits of her time inside without the risks of overstaying her welcome, and if all goes well, as it in all likelihood will, their little bundle of joy will be on her way any day now. Maybe today. Maybe in an hour. Maybe in  _ this _ hour.

Yuuri’s throat grows tight, making his breath uneasy. He can admit he’s anxious. It’s better than admitting that he’s terrified.

“Is there anything I can do for you?” Victor asks.

Yuuri tries to clear his throat before saying, still raspily, “Just cuddle me?”

Victor inches close, until he’s flush with Yuuri’s back, a foot nudged between his feet, an arm slid beneath his and draped over his waist, palm kept loose atop his navel. He already feels contained in the embrace. Grounded.

“Like this?” Victor nuzzles his nose into Yuuri’s shoulder.

“Yeah,” he mutters. “That’s perfect.”

Victor gives him a small, lazy squeeze with his arm. “Let’s go to sleep now, Yuuri.”

Yuuri yawns, settling back against Victor’s body. “Okay.”

And he tries to sleep, really. He’s pretty sure he gets closer to genuine, restful slumber than he has been able to in awhile. But there’s something else that’s keeping him awake, something that hasn’t been of much concern to him lately, and Victor’s been completely understanding and respecting of that. But now, with the warmth of Victor’s body, the weight of his proximity, and even with the soothing sound of his unconscious breath, Yuuri feels that want again.

That Victor’s dick in pressed against his ass isn’t making that want any easier to ignore.

It  _ would _ be safe, according to his doctor, so long as labour hasn’t started. And if it  _ does _ induce labour, as he’s also been told is unlikely but possible, it wouldn’t really matter at this point anyway. But right now, more than that stuff, he’s weighing how rude it would be to wake Victor up  _ again _ , and for this.

Then again, Victor did ask if there was  _ anything _ he could do for him.

Not long after he does wake Victor up, Victor’s fingers are inside him, enveloped in the warm slick Yuuri’s body copiously provides. Victor moves them slowly, leaving languorous kisses on the back of Yuuri’s neck, on his shoulder. When Yuuri whimpers for it, Victor lines up his cock, pushing into him until he bottoms out, until Yuuri’s back is once again flush with Victor’s front. The stretch he feels now, a stretch he’s felt plenty of times before, makes him wince this time.

“Yuuri, you okay?”

“It’s… I’m just pretty sensitive right now.”

“Do you want me to take it out?”

“No, just…” He twists his neck, turning towards Victor’s face. “Just stay in me for now?”

Yuuri thinks he can see Victor’s smile, though he can barely see anything in this darkness. But he doesn’t need his sight to know that Victor’s lips are against his now, that they remain close as he speaks.

“Of course, Yuuri.”

Victor kisses him, slipping his tongue into Yuuri’s opened mouth, breathing soft noises of pleasure as Yuuri does in kind. He follows Yuuri’s guidance, perceives what his lover’s body needs and what it can withstand, moves when he asked to, stops when he is told, touches where his fingers are pined for. That kiss endures through it all, for the long, lingering time their drowsy lovemaking lasts, sometimes interrupted, but never stopped.

As Yuuri’s brought to his climax, crying his pleasure into his lover’s mouth, his mind is held by nothing but this moment, nothing but Victor. Victor, unintentionally edged, his cock taunted by the time between active friction and passive pressure, comes easily and explosively.

Their lips move lazily, still fighting for contact even with this exhaustion, this need for air. The rain keeps hitting their window, a little more softly now. The fan blows against the sweat on their skin.

“I love you,” says Yuuri, the tips of their noses brushing together.

“I love you too. So much.”

Yuuri turns his head back, settling it down on his pillow once more. In Victor’s embrace, little changed from when he asked for it, he’s already drifting off.

 

When Yuuri wakes up, eyes opening to mid-morning sunlight, at first he’s relieved as it dawns upon him that he actually got a few hours of sleep. He still feels the usual grogginess of waking up at all, but he can already tell he got at least  _ some _ of the rest his body and his brain so desperately needed. Then, when his limbs start to wake up and squirm around, and he feels the moist sheets beneath his hips, his heart gives him a little jolt as he recalls the impetus for his restful sleep. His face goes warm with the assumption that it’s the slick and semen they neglected to clean up last night. But, somehow, that doesn’t seem  _ right. _ He’s spent his time lying in soiled and wet sheets — occupational hazard of being Victor Nikiforov’s lover — but they’ve never felt so… he doesn’t even know how to put it.  _ So _ wet?

Then he feels a pain in his lower back, a tight ache that moves through his pelvis and remains just as intense before his muscles go entirely calm, and it clicks.

“Victor.” He seats himself up and starts shaking Victor’s shoulder. “Victor, wake up!”

Victor’s eyes squint, blinking a few times before they actually look decently focused on Yuuri. Then, suddenly, he bounces up beside Yuuri, completely alert, and asks, “She’s coming?”

Yuuri nods, and keeps nodding, the smile sneaking onto his face cracking into a massive grin he can’t help from staying there. There are tears welling up in his eyes. His whole body is trembling. His mind is racing between and overlapping through so much at once, excitement and anxiety and relief and uncertainty and so much more, all fighting to be the most strongly felt, the emotion that in turn drives all his thoughts and every sensation in his body.

And yet, when Victor pulls him into a hug, all he can feel is what he knows Victor is feeling right now.

Love. Just love.


	7. Sunday: Breastfeeding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoy today's SFW sweetness, everyone. <3

Late that afternoon, Yukiko Victorovna Katsuki-Nikiforova came into the world with a powerful set of lungs, a head of black hair, a pair of chubby cheeks, and the abounding love of Victor Nikiforov. Victor had already been head over heels for her the second the pregnancy test came back positive, but as he squeezed Yuuri’s hand through his pain, watching in awe as their child took her first breath, he felt that love multiply by so great a magnitude, and transform into something so beyond comprehension, all he could do at first was cry, tears streaming free down his beaming face.

Yukiko’s placed on Yuuri’s bare chest, this little, wrinkly person, gently wiped dry by one of the nurses as Victor frees his hand from his own, letting his daughter be held close, for the first time, by the love of his life.

Victor has two of those now, he realizes.

He watches her calm down, kept close to Yuuri’s heart and its soothing beat.

“She's beautiful,” Yuuri says softly.

Victor nods. “She gets it from you.” He stands up, bending down to plant a kiss in Yuuri’s hair. “You did it, Yuuri,” he tells him, so much pride in his voice. “You had our baby.”

“I had a good coach.”

Victor felt more like Yuuri’s stress ball than an actual, useful coach in the process, but it makes him glad to know he was at least a  _ good  _ stress ball. “How do you feel?”

Yuuri exhales long and slow through his nose. “Sore. Hungry. Tired. Really tired.” He rubs Yukiko’s back, watching her as she wiggles about, feeling around his chest with her little fists. Yuuri smiles. “I'm good, though.”

“You can take a nap whenever you want to,” Victor reminds him. “You've earned it.”

“I want to try feeding her first.”

“All right. Remember they said it might not come easy, so don't be discouraged if we have to try again later, okay?”

Yuuri nods, looking up warmly at Victor, his eyes so weary but still so beautifully bright. “See? Good coach.”

He gives Yuuri a hug, accepting his promotion from stress ball gracefully.

But he does wonder if his gentle, encouraging reminder did more harm than good, when Yuuri first tries to get Yukiko to latch on, only to get a fussy, upset baby in return. Disappointed, but seeming to take Victor's words to heart, he doesn't try to force it, instead easing their daughter back to the middle of his chest to let her chill out.

They try their best to keep things positive and relaxed, just enjoying being together with the newest and cutest (even all wrinkled up) member of the Katsuki-Nikiforov family. Yuuri scoots over, letting Victor snuggle up to him in the hospital bed. Still warm on Yuuri’s chest, Victor rests his hand on her back, feels her squishy legs and tiny pink toed, melts completely when she squeezes her entire hand around his index finger. Yuuri devours a granola bar and box of apple juice, and looks resplendent to Victor as he does. Victor puts his arm around Yuuri when he tries to nurse a second time, telling him he did a good job anyway. They call Yuuri’s family, letting them know that Yukiko’s arrived and everyone’s doing well, promising to make a longer call later. Victor takes photo after photo after photo, marveling over what a natural his little girl is in front of the camera.

“After this,” says Victor, as Yuuri shifts Yukiko back to his nipple, “you’ll try and get a little sleep, okay?”

Yuuri gives him a firm nod. Cradled against his belly, he supports their daughter’s head against his breast. As Yukiko roots around, Yuuri tries moving her subtly to steer her in the right direction. The anticipation feels like a buzzing inside Victor as he watches, hoping for the best but absolutely prepared to kiss and console and do whatever Yuuri needs to let him know that Victor’s so,  _ so _ proud of him already.

They both gasp when Yukiko seals her little mouth on his nipple and starts suckling, her hands floundering for purchase on Yuuri’s puffy chest. When she relaxes, so totally comforted by the milk she’s getting, Yuuri relaxes too, resting his head on Victor’s shoulder. Victor kisses his temple, showing his appreciation before letting the calm wash over him too, leaning his head against Yuuri’s.

It all feels so unreal. That it is real just makes it all the more astounding.

“Wow,” says Victor.

“Yeah,” says Yuuri. “Wow.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for much for reading! I had so much fun writing this -- it was such a nice change to get to write and finish something short and not stress out about it too much. Your feedback made the experience extra sweet, so thank you to those who have left your amazing comments already, and thank you to anyone who leaves a comment after this. <3
> 
> (I may do a bonus chapter for lactation kink because, as much as that is my guilty pleasure, I wanted to go full fluffy for the final day. We'll see what happens!)


	8. Bonus: Lactation Kink

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Better late than never, right? ... Right?
> 
> Happy New Year! I hope you enjoy my first self-indulgent smutty fluff/fluffy smut work of the year. It will certainly not be the last.

Yuuri thought competitive figure skating was exhausting, and it certainly was, but at least as a skater he could pretty much always expect to get two hours of uninterrupted sleep at night.

Not so much with a newborn in the house.

Baby Yukiko’s tiny tummy, as small as a marble when they took her home and just about the size of a ping pong ball now, needs to be filled pretty much every two hours, day or night, as she is very vocal to remind her absolutely besotted but sleep-deprived parents.

Right now, it's 3 in the morning, and Yuuri’s on the couch, trying not to nod off as he’s nursing. Victor, who has woken up and stayed up with him every time, no matter how much Yuuri insists he doesn’t need to, sits beside him, bags under his eyes but a smile still on his face as he looks over at their daughter.

“Need a snack?” Victor offers.

“It’s fine,” Yuuri says with a yawn. He’s still running on the sandwich Victor made him during Yukiko’s last feeding, and he just wants to go straight back to bed after this. And now that Yukiko’s fussing in that way that means she’s had enough, as they’ve both come to recognize, Yuuri’s already happily imagining himself back under the blankets, all warm and immobile and unconscious…

“Come to papa, Yuki-chan,” Victor coos, picking her up to hold against his chest. He starts patting her back, continuing to coo some gentle, singsongy nonsense.

After Yuuri cleans himself up and pulls his shirt down, tasks made so much simpler with both hands free, he turns his attention to his husband and daughter.

Now, it’s no surprise that Yuuri finds Victor attractive — he’s been attracted to him since before he even really understood what attraction  _ was _ . Yuuri’s seen him in gorgeous costumes, tailored suits, revealing dishabille and  _ very _ revealing nothing, but none of that has been able to do to Yuuri quite what the image is front of him is doing now. Even with those dark circles and bedhead and, oops, Yukiko just spit up on him — but even with those dark circles and bedhead and spit up, when he’s caring for their daughter, so gently and so protectively, Yuuri feels a love without conditions and without limits. Agape at its purest.

Well, no.

He also kind of (kind of  _ really _ ) wants to jump his bones, something he hasn’t even thought about doing since becoming parents. Thankfully, he’s too exhausted to have to process why watching his husband burp a baby is the thing of all things that has reawakened his sexual desires.

“Aw, there’s my sleepy eggplant,” Victor whispers, softly rubbing Yukiko’s back, calming her down even more.

Trying not to disrupt his efforts, Yuuri holds back a laugh, reducing it to a muffled snort. He can never help laughing at how silly the nickname that  _ stuck _ is, just because of the fervent devotion Victor’s shown to make it stick. The paternal dorkiness, perhaps just a hint at what’s to come, does little to cool Yuuri’s sudden urges; if anything, confusingly, it just makes Victor that much more appealing.

“I’ll go put her to bed,” says Victor, standing up carefully as to not wake up the little girl dozing off in his arms. “You go on ahead to sleep, okay?”

Despite every nerve in him that longs for the opposite of sleep, longing instead for wakefulness and activity and motion, Yuuri convinces himself that sleep Victor’s giving him a headstart on is what his body actually needs. So, with a full-body slump reminiscent of a child past his bedtime ordered to his bed, he plods over to the bedroom. As he sinks into the mattress, he accepts that he may not have sex tonight, or in what feels like the foreseeable future, but at least he’ll get sleep.

Actually, scratch that.

The other issue with Yukiko’s tiny tummy being so tiny, besides how quickly it becomes empty, is that Yuuri makes more milk than that tiny tummy ever needs at once.  _ Far _ more than it needs. Given what he’s heard about others struggling and struggling to produce enough milk for their babies, he can consider it a blessing, really, except that he was so tired for this feeding that he completely forgot to switch the side he was nursing from, and it becomes an exceptionally uncomfortable curse — the kind he can’t really ignore and try to sleep off.

The right side of his chest feels hard and achingly full, ready to literally burst. Victor walks in as Yuuri's massaging his chest, trying and failing to set off the right signals to trick his body into thinking he's feeding a baby.

“I'm engorged,” Yuuri says bluntly, saving Victor the trouble of asking.

Victor just nods. “I’ll go get the pump.”

Ugh, no, not again.

“Wait,” Yuuri blurts out, catching Victor before he leaves.

Yuuri’s sick of the pump, of how loud and mechanical it is, of how unsettling the parallel is between him and a dairy cow when he uses it. The fridge is already packed full of milk anyway and, really, he doesn't need to drain himself dry — just getting a little bit out is all he'd need to be able to fall asleep.

And he is desperate for sleep.

“Can you do it, Victor?”

Victor stands in place, processing the question. He looks Yuuri in the face, eyes momentarily slipping down slightly to his still-held chest, then raises an eyebrow, intrigued. “Are you asking me to…?”

Yuuri nods, because, yeah, apparently  _ he is _ .

“I’d love to!” Victor nearly exclaims, clearly excited, but still aware enough to use his sleeping-baby-in-the-other-room voice. He launches into the bed like a swimmer off of the starting block, snuggling up close to Yuuri. “I’ve missed getting to play with them.”

“This isn’t for fun,” Yuuri insists.

“We’ll see about that.”

“What was that?”

“Just lie back and relax.” Victor smiles, putting a spark in his otherwise tired eyes, filling them with life. “I’ll take care of you.”

Yuuri hasn’t heard that smooth coaxing in Victor’s voice in what feels like forever, and that gives his body even less of a chance to do anything but to melt at it — the heat it stirs between his thigh so strongly felt after its absence. He lets his limbs go slack, his head slightly raised to keep his eyes on Victor.

He watches as Victor leans down by Yuuri’s shoulder, fixing his lips to Yuuri’s swollen breast, experimentally sucking, too gently to do anything but pester his tender, taut skin. He appreciates the sentiment, that Victor’s trying to be gentle, but Yuuri needs the  _ relief _ , and  _ now. _

“Suck harder,” he tells Victor, more harshly than he meant, but engorgement doesn’t really work alongside patience.

Victor looks up to lock their gazes together, an acknowledgement of his instruction, at the same time treating Yuuri to the sight of those icy-blue eyes before they flit back beneath their pale lashes. The sudden sense of exposure, even if he’s just as exposed as he was a minute ago, and really no more exposed than he’s ever been with Victor, makes his face warm. Victor sucks again, a few times, each attempt with more force than the last, until he triggers Yuuri’s let-down, making Yuuri wince at the extreme pressure of it. Yuuri’s become used to that sensation, and he braced himself for it to happen now, but still makes a noise.

“Are you all right?” asks Victor, brows knit as he backs away, back onto his elbow. His lip, and the corner of his mouth, are shiny with moisture.

“Yeah, it just hurts at first sometimes.”

“Should I keep going, Yuuri?”

“Yes,” Yuuri quickly answers. “Please.”

When Victor gets his milk to actually start flowing, Yuuri can definitely feel his eyes rolling back into his head, so great is just that initial relief. The overfullness starts giving way to a warm, welcome tingling. But instead of the usual, rewarding satisfaction this turns into when he’s nursing their daughter, helping her to grow and thrive, his body seems to know that that’s not the case right now. Yuuri knows it’s Victor, the man he loves, the man he burns for, and the sensation instead turns to a wholly physical pleasure. Yuuri  _ moans. _

“Did that feel good?” asks Victor, popping his mouth off, an upturn in his voice noting his excitement.

Yuuri has to hold back a whimper from the loss of contact, so yes, it  _ does _ feel good. He nods to say as much. The smile Victor gives him isn’t  _ quite _ what he’d call smug, but there’s definitely some smugness in it.

“I’m glad,” Victor hums, running the flat of his tongue over Yuuri’s nipple, lapping up what has leaked out.

“W-Wait,” Yuuri says, fighting through a soft shudder. “Are you drinking it?”

“Mm-hmm.” Victor nonchalantly swipes his chin with his finger before slipping it into his mouth, watching Yuuri’s reaction with bedroom eyes, using that same mouth to tell him, warm and sensual, “You taste good, Yuuri. Sweet.”

Yuuri’s conflicted. On the one hand, this seems like a perversion of something wholesome and good — sexualizing something that is the antithesis of sexual. It… just feels wrong, a little bit, maybe?

But, on the other hand, he’s pitching one hell of a tent in the sweatpants he’s worn for three days straight, and erections always sort of win by default when he’s in bed with Victor.

Victor’s wandering hand brushes past Yuuri’s waistband, over the bulge there. Instead of any surprise, Victor just seems pleased, like he’s found exactly what he was expecting to find. With his fingers loosely held around the shape of his newfound bargaining chip, he pouts at Yuuri slyly — an expression Yuuri didn’t think people could  _ do _ until seeing Victor whip it out on that gorgeous face of his.

“You do so much. I’d really like to take care of you,” says Victor, tilting his head back towards Yuuri’s chest, running a fingertip along the length of Yuuri’s clothed cock. “So, what do you say?”

Yuuri purses his lips together, noticing how dry they’ve become, as he runs a few facts through his mind: namely, that he is simultaneously tired, engorged, and horny, and his husband, sweet and shameless soul that he is, seems more than happy to offer his all-encompassing help for nothing in return. Well, except for breastmilk — that thing Yuuri’s dying to get rid of right now?

So, yeah. Fuck it.

“Go for it.”

And Victor does, with no lack of enthusiasm, drawing Yuuri’s cock out from his pants as he draws Yuuri’s nipple back into his mouth, stroking and sucking and rubbing and licking and  _ loving _ every second of it. The wet noise of Victor’s suckling becomes interspersed with adoring kisses all over Yuuri’s chest, making his skin shiver, making his blood rush and mind whirl. It might be that he hasn’t has this kind of attention in weeks, or it’s just that what Victor’s doing just feels  _ that _ good, but Yuuri feels his climax inching close.

Victor knows. He slows down, drags it out a bit longer. Yuuri aches, but trusts. Allows.

“Your body’s so wonderful,” Victor says between those kisses, leaving Yuuri untouched and squirming as Victor’s fingers move over his belly, over skin that’s become stretched and scarred despite all Yuuri’s efforts. “So beautiful.”

Yuuri’s body may have changed, but the way Victor treats it has not. He wants it to feel pleasured and loved. He is still entranced with it, more entranced with it, more entranced with  _ Yuuri _ .

A few more firm jerks and Yuuri is gone, lost in an electrifying, spine-curving, toe-curling orgasm, spattering his stomach with thick, hot cum, as milk pools and falls in streaks over half his chest, the rest eagerly gulped down Victor’s throat. When his body ceases its spasms, it becomes comfortably heavy against the mattress, as his mind remains floating in the moment. Yuuri’s consciousness returns to him, a part of it at least, he fumbles around for a tissue or cloth or any similar thing they have all over the house at all times nowadays, and wipes himself off.

“Okay,” Yuuri mutters, still catching his breath, “I’ll do something for you too, just… just give me a moment—”

He hears Victor sniff and, in the quiet that follows, the low, even flow of Victor’s breath. Yuuri crooks his neck to get a better look at Victor’s face — eyes shut, lips slightly parted, passed out. He even has milk on his chin. But he looks so comfy and peaceful that Yuuri doesn’t have it in him to disturb him with cleaning it up, much less waking him up to move. He just nestles back in, closing his eyes with the certainty that Yukiko will wake him back up in a few hours —  tops — but also with the certainty that Victor will be, as he is now, right there with him.

And he passes right out too.


End file.
